


Only Sorrow

by SwordofRebecca



Category: The Second Apocalypse - R. Scott Bakker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 11:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordofRebecca/pseuds/SwordofRebecca
Summary: Proyas ends up somewhere he never expects with someone he thought he would never see again.





	Only Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> It's been close to two years since my "unholy" rage quit of the Unholy Consult. This particular fic/poem/whatever has been stewing since November 2017. I finally got it down. It's inspired by this lovely song: https://genius.com/Them-are-us-too-fall-lyrics

He saw Xinemus when it should have been a ciphrang, but he wasn't a mean Xinemus, he was a nice one. Proyas knew that life left him and yet he can still hear himself cry out.

"Xinemus..." He can still feel the tears fall down his face.

"The slog of slogs!" He remembered screaming before dying. He should have known that there was no weeping on the slog and Proyas spent most of life weeping over something or someone.

He thought that he'd be blind, but he can still see Xinemus standing before him, beckoning him, his face full of peace. It wasn't a mean face, it was a nice face, one that Proyas always loved.

"Xinemus," he approached. He should not have had a voice, but he did. It wasn't an angry voice. It was a sad one, a fearful one, a voice that yearned for comfort.

Xinemus held out his arms and Proyas fell into them. Their bodies were not cold bodies. They were warm bodies. Proyas quietly wept on Xinemus's shoulder. 

"Xinemus..." He could feel himself fading, fading somewhere. He could feel Xinemus's arms around him. "We are damned, are we not?" 

"We are damned..." Xinemus replied. His voice was not mean. It was a nice voice. A voice of kindness, a voice that offered comfort.

"We will suffer..."

"We will not suffer. We will be going somewhere nice..."

"Nice?" Proyas could feel himself fading away. "In damnation?"

"It is Limbo..."

"What is Limbo?"

"Beautiful...there is no torment there...only sorrow." 

"Sorrow? Xinemus..." Proyas held on to his mentor. He pressed his cheek against Xinemus's shoulder. He couldn't understand what he was trying to say. Sorrow? Damnation was supposed to be eternal torment in fire, blood, and ciphrang. He remembered Kellhus(damn him) telling him that the world was a granary. He thought himself saved, but no. He is damned and poor Xinemus damned too. Achamian(please forgive me...I knew you tried to save me...) damned. The vast majority of the world damned. 

"No torment...only sorrow..."

"Xinemus," Proyas cried for one last time before he could feel hands envelop him, but they were not mean hands. They were nice hands. Hands that enveloped his naked body that no longer hurt. Hands that became shadows that embraced both dead men and saved them from the fire. 

He had thought that the shadows would bring torment, but they did not bring torment, only beauty, a dark beauty. They floated together to a peaceful meadow.

Among the shadows, Proyas had found that it was no longer necessary to think of anything now. The past could not be turned. The darkness that came before no longer mattered. Only the present shadows mattered. He looked to the clouds marred by a silent darkness. Perhaps it would rain and they would taste like tears. Soon he would be proven right, but he did not hide from them. He found no need. 

"I couldn't figure out myself..." Proyas suddenly whispered, realizing that his statement had many meanings. Meanings that he would have an eternity to figure out. "Myself..."

"This is Limbo," Xinemus said from a few steps away. "Here dwell people like us."

Proyas felt hands behind him. They were not mean hands, they were nice hands. Hands that embraced him. Hands that made him warm. He leaned back against his former mentor. He wanted to kiss him. Instead, he muttered, "Couldn't figure out myself..." He closed his eyes. "Myself..." Tears fell once more and they joined the rain. 

"Neither could I," Xinemus whispered in his ear.

Among the sorrow, both managed to laugh and said nothing more. There was no need to. 

"Myself..."


End file.
